Comforting Touch
by TheAlphaWrites
Summary: Because in the mess of slumbering bodies, it was as if no one could get to them; they were safe in the cocoon, within the confines of the large beds that were customary to the renamed Avengers mansion. Implied pairings. Requested. Post-battle sleepovers.


**Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

**Requested by that1awkwardpanda**

_**Thank you to my beta, WithinHerHeart :)**_

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It had become a tradition for them after the events that first brought them together. They had been broken and bruised, shaking and reeling from the need to just not be alone. No one had said anything, no one ever did, but it was kind of decided when there was only one room that Tony could offer the fellow superheroes, the master bedroom at his house in Malibu.

It was tense at first, uncomfortable even; everybody too tense to fully relax into the comfortable mattress of the king sized bed or feel the softness of the 100% Egyptian cotton sheets.

Bruce had fallen asleep first, the day's events finally taking a toll on the mild mannered doctor. His head lolled into Tony's shoulder, sleepily nuzzling the taunt skin that was stretched over well toned muscles. His bare feet slipped under Thor's large thighs, his toes warmed by the above average body temperature of the God. For a long moment, they watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest, unable to keep small, fond smiles from their faces when his snuffling filled the quiet room.

Natasha was the first to move after that, pushing herself off the door she was leaning against. She crawled across the bed until she could curve herself around Bruce's slumbering body. She hid her face in the back of his neck, her calm breathing stirring the hair there. One hand gripped the back of his shirt whilst the other reached out kindly for Tony's arm, encouraging him closer.

Tony obliged easily to the request of the redheaded woman, a small smile growing on his tired face as he allowed her to conduct his movements. He rolled a little onto his side, and Natasha gently urged Bruce's head into the crook between his head and shoulder. He made a small noise of protest at the movement but relaxed almost instantly when his face was buried firmly against the skin. Tony couldn't suppress a shiver when Bruce inhaled deeply into his neck and gripped the edges of the large shirt that Natasha had changed into that hung off her frame like a dress.

Behind them, sitting on the window ledge, Steve watched the pile with interest, shifting slightly in place. A look of indecision crossed his face. Tony glanced towards the man, sweeping an appreciative gaze across his crouched form.

"Don't be shy Cap, might as well put this bed to good use," he murmured.

Steve hesitated for a moment, his blue eyes acting as a window to the debate that was going on inside, but he pushed himself off the seat. He tugged his shirt over his shoulders, leaving only sweatpants, and slide into place beside Tony. He seemed to lie still for a moment before he allowed his arm to drape over his teammate's waist, his hand held onto the hem of Bruce's shirt. Tony sighed contently as he leant back into the hold, relaxing against his bare chest.

Thor smiled widely, his eyes taking in the huddle of people across from him. He shifted slightly, taking extra care to keep Bruce's feet beneath him. His head rested on the surprisingly cushioned thigh of the Captain. He glanced down and offered him a small smile of assurance. The God of Thunder breathed out heavily, the tension leaving his body, and narrowed his eyes towards Clint.

The archer was standing on the other end of the room. He was standing there awkwardly, a look of worry on his face as if he wasn't sure whether he was invited to join the pile of bodies but wanted nothing more than to snuggle into the warmth. Thor didn't say anything, merely stretched his arms out to make room for the man against his chest. Clint waited a split second before he dived in, ignoring the quiet grumbling the rest of the avengers released. He pressed himself against Thor's chest, the highest position on the bed, his face hidden between his prominent collarbones.

It wasn't a perfect solution, far from it. In all actuality, they'd woken up quite a few times with the overwhelming urge to bark their frustrations at the others sleeping habits than anything else.

Thor snored like a bass drum, the noise echoing around the large room until Bruce, who sleeps like a log, had to smother the noise with a spare pillow for the rest of them to even attempt sleep again.

Natasha was a cover hog, and it was common for her and Tony to fall into lengthy power struggles and more often than not, ended with Natasha wrapped in the sheets like a burrito in the morning.

Bruce was clingy, hooking himself around unsuspecting bodies in an attack of long limbs and strong hands, with Tony and Clint tied at being his favourite teddy bear, which was quickly followed by Natasha, on their rare occasion when she was happy to be the 'little spoon'.

Clint had made a nest upon Thor's chest, claiming he felt comfortable from above, which would be okay if he wasn't a restless sleeper – Tony couldn't count the times that he'd been jerked awake by the sudden pressure of the 230 pound man falling onto his stomach.

Steve drooled, not a lot, but enough that whoever he was curled against could feel the drying patch on their shirt or on their skin and he would flush, embarrassed and stammer his apologies.

Tony talked in his sleep, about anything and everything that someone could possibly talk about – sometimes the words were windows into his nightmares, sometimes they were just equations that would only make sense to Bruce if he were awake; other times it was murmurs of his true feelings for the team.

But, in those post-battle moments, when comfort and closeness were the only things that kept the shadows at bay, they could cope with a few unsavoury habits and sleepy fights, because it would be a whole lot worse without them.

Because in the mess of slumbering bodies, it was as if no one could get to them; they were safe in the cocoon, within the confines of the large beds that were customary to the renamed Avengers mansion.

Because sometimes, just sometimes, a comforting touch is all you need to make everything go away.


End file.
